Eli Yudin and Carey O'Donnell, authors of the very, very funny Twitter account @NotTildaSwinton, take a break from swiping to tell us about the eight types of profiles on Tinder they never ever want to find on that app again.

The Alcohol Monster

Drinking, as a general practice, we endorse wholeheartedly. We've done it thoroughly and to excess. In fact, we'd probably swipe right at pictures of someone at dive bars over someone who looks like they're going to make us rock climb. However, there's a point in which you've moved past "fun" and into "someone we're going to be taking care of." If your mouth is frozen into a banshee scream, each eye pointed in a rogue direction, with half a Long Island in your hand and the other half on your clothing, maybe that's not the best introduction. Our ideal first date doesn't involve holding anyone's hair back while they aggressively move dollar pizza from their stomach to the curb.

Disembodied Eye

When the only picture you have on your profile is a zoomed-in picture of only one of your eye-holes, perhaps in some attempt at "discretion," that's not going to reel us in. In fact, the only thing it's going to do is make us think of you as this stationary, flaming Eye of Sauron-esque phantom, haunting the valley of super chill, young professionals. We'd then try to imagine ourselves meeting up with said single eyeball at a bar, trying our best not to resort to asking someone who works there, "Hey, have you seen an eye at all tonight?"

Tind-R.I.P.

Some people are straightforward and just want to get baggage out of the way up front. There's an authenticity to this strategy that we can wholeheartedly respect. However, when we're alternating Tinder swipes with sips of High Life roundabouts at 1 a.m., the last thing we need to see is a note in someone's bio mourning the loss of a loved one. Death is a devastating thing, but we're not sure that the best way to honor somebody is through an app developed to get people laid with minimal fanfare. It also makes composing that first message a little awkward -- "sup" seems a little casual but "I'm sorry for your loss" isn't exactly sexual dynamite.

"To the Front of the Line"

Everyone has something that gets their rocks off, and it's perfectly normal to go ahead and bluntly state what you're looking for in a partner, physically or not. But for some reason this phrase has become a "thing" on these "dating" apps: "(SPECIFIC PREFERENCE) TO THE FRONT OF THE LINE!" OK! "Creative, yet pulled-together beer lovers TO THE FRONT OF THE LINE!" "Film buffs TO THE FRONT OF THE LINE!" "Over 6 ft and masc jocks TO THE FRONT OF THE LINE!" "Grossly particular physical or sexual requirement possibly stemming from past trauma TO THE FRONT OF THE LINE!" We then start wondering where these lines are forming. How big are these lines? We imagine there's a check-in place with some bored-looking people at tables handing out paperwork with lists of features that apply to you. Seeing the mobs of beer-loving music aficionados who are over 6" and appearing to be masculine ahead of you, you ask one of the check-in people if there is, like, a SEMI-NEAR THE FRONT OF THE LINE point you can stand at, or a TOWARDS THE BACK BUT NOT TOTALLY IN THE BACK OF THE LINE point. Then a swarm of bees appears and engulfs you.

Not So Happily Ever After

Your wedding looks like it was beautiful. However, now it's up to us to try to figure out if you're newly divorced and back on the scene or if this is some sort of more complicated cuckold situation. It's also a little disconcerting to see a picture that says, "this is me on the left, and on the right is a grave enemy you have the opportunity to make." Especially in the case of the one woman we saw whose husband was in full Marine regalia. Even if we have a good relationship, we'll still be checking the bushes in front of our house for a vengeful ex in face-paint.

"It's Going Down, I'm Yelling Tinder"

So now we know that you're A: unoriginal and B: love Pitbull. Strong opening bid.

(NOTE FROM CAREY: Leave Kesha out of this.)

Crowd Control

It's always a good thing to see someone you're vibin' has friends. Friends are good! But one reoccurring theme of this app is a person flooding their profile with photos of them in large, flush-faced, smiley crowds of people at bars, restaurants, and concerts. They seem to be saying -- no, yelling -- "I HAVE FRIENDS. DO YOU SEE THESE PEOPLE? THEY ARE FRIENDS I HAVE." No one starts out a first date by sitting down backwards on a chair and saying with a huge smile, "First and foremost, I have friends." Maybe resist beating your smart phone against someone's face to remind them that you are fun-loving and social.